


Death x and x Dying

by cloudcraft



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Blood, Character Study, Gen, Killing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 17:45:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4970404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudcraft/pseuds/cloudcraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"As a child, Killua didn't think of death or killing as anything strange. It was a process he engaged in without feeling any personal connection. Dying was something that happened to other people, people who weren't members of the Zoldyck family. When he was six years old, Illumi brought him along on a job for the first time."</p>
<p>Killua reflects on his relationships with his family, death, and Gon. He thinks about what it means to take a life. Contains spoilers for the Election Arc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death x and x Dying

**Author's Note:**

> Not my usual style, but here we are. Warnings for what you'd expect from Zoldycks: violence, horrible personalities, and transphobic language.

As a child, Killua didn't think of death or killing as anything strange. It was a process he engaged in without feeling any personal connection. Dying was something that happened to other people, people who weren't members of the Zoldyck family. When he was six years old, Illumi brought him along on a job for the first time. He remembered the soft leather grip of the knife that Illumi eased into his hands. Illumi's mark lay bound, gagged, and blindfolded on the floor. His sweat had soaked through his shirt. He'd pissed himself in fear and the room stank of ammonia. 

"Just like we practiced at home," Illumi murmured into Killua's ear. "The neck or the heart." 

Killua chose the heart. He lined up the blade with the gap in the ribs, exactly where he knew it would be, and pushed. There was less resistance than he expected. Blood blossomed out from the puncture wound like a butterfly spreading its wings. The body seized for a few moments before he collapsed. Killua crouched with his fingers still wrapped around the knife grip, unsure of whether or not to let go. 

"That's how a human dies," Illumi said. "All people eventually die. We simply accelerate the process." He reached down and placed his hands over Killua's, easing the knife out. It made a soft, wet sound. "You'll soon learn how to put your talents to use to kill people like this. That's our family's job." 

"Why? Do other families do it too?" Killua let Illumi take the knife from him. 

"Some do. None of them are as good at it as we are." Illumi produced a cloth from his pocket and wiped the knife clean before replacing it in its sheath. 

"What if somebody kills you, Illu-nii?" 

Illumi turned to look at him, his eyes completely blank. 

"That's not going to happen."

 

The finer details of death don't often cross his mind, the same way that most people don't think too hard about lifting a spoon to their mouths or tying their shoelaces. He's forcibly reminded when he watches Hanzo beating Gon to a pulp. Both he and Hanzo are specialists; they know exactly where to hit to cause the most or least damage. He can see what Hanzo is doing and because of it, he realizes that it's only due to Hanzo's personality that Gon is still alive at all. 

Well, he thinks, I would have been able to stop him. Gon is his first friend, obviously worth the risk, and Killua doesn't care about passing the exam anyways. Something still nags at the back of his mind. It's almost comforting that the decision remains hypothetical. 

Killua doesn't have the pleasure of following this train of thought to its end. Before he knows it, it's his turn to fight and Illumi is there and everything changes. When he comes to, he finds his feet dragging him back home. 

 

The day before his seventh birthday, Killua went out on his first job. His mark went down with a paralyzing dart to the neck and collapsed on his hotel room floor. By the time Killua made it across the street and up to his window, the man was already in tears and straining his eyes towards hotel phone. 

Killua stole through the window and landed beside him. The man's eyes widened as they turned to his assassin. Killua gave a blank stare in return. 

"You're only a boy—" 

Killua withdrew a knife from his belt and the man choked on his words. His breathing quickened. Killua could nearly hear the man's heart pounding.

"Please," he stuttered. "I have a son. About your age. And my wife. They've done nothing wrong. Please don't harm them." 

Killua knit his brows in a frown. Killing the son and wife wasn't part of the job. There wasn't any real reason to share that information, but there wasn't any reason _not_ to either. 

"I won't," Killua said. 

"Thank you." The man relaxed and stopped struggling for a second. He even closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Had he been that worried? Killua imagined if his family were so weak that they could be killed by just anybody. He supposed he'd be upset too. The thought of his family reminded him of Illumi's presence on the roof across the street, waiting for him to come back.

Killua reached down, plucked the dart from his mark's throat, and moved the knife to replace it. The man's eyes snapped open again. 

"Wait! Don't kill me. I can—hrrk..!!" 

Killua stepped back as the man bled out onto the carpet, rubbing the knife clean with the edge of his shirt. The butlers could just clean it later. 

 

It's hard to believe that Gon isn't invincible when he walks in and out of the Zoldyck Estate with all his limbs intact. Even though Killua has distinct memories of Gon curled up on the floor during the Hunter Exam final rounds, coughing up blood and cradling his broken arm. Even though Gon is so laughably far from being able to fight Hisoka that were it anybody else, Killua would laugh in their face. 

But he doesn't. Killua trains with him, eats with him, plays janken with him while they're sprawled out on the hotel bed. During the Exam, Gon taught him the "winner flicks loser in the face" rule and Killua loves it. He flicks his middle finger into Gon's forehead with relish, laughing when Gon topples over and howls exaggeratedly.

It would only take a bit more effort on his part to hit Gon so hard that it shatters his skull. If he produced his claws, he could cut Gon's scalp clean open and dig his fingers into the pulp of Gon's brain. He's pretty certain that Gon knows all this, but hasn't run away yet. Is it because he's never killed before that he's so unafraid of dying?

Gon sits up and thrusts his fist into the air, signaling the beginning of another round. Killua throws paper, Gon throws scissors. Gon crows in delight and lines up his flicking finger with Killua's face. Killua sighs and lifts up his bangs to bare his forehead. 

The flick is sharp and Killua yelps in earnest. Gon laughs. 

"One more before bed?"

He's not sure what's more disturbing and impressive, Gon being ignorant or perfectly aware of how vulnerable he is.

 

Killua was about eight years old when Alluka started killing butlers. But he was old enough to know that she didn't mean to and that no matter how strong they were, they couldn't save themselves. His mother told all the siblings not to speak to Alluka anymore, but Killua snuck up to her room to see her anyways. 

Grandpa Zeno always said that if he got killed on a job, it was because he wasn't paying enough attention. Killua didn't see why this was any different. He paid attention. He learned the rules. More importantly, he learned how to make Alluka smile and laugh and forget that the rest of the family hated her. 

For the first time in his life, Killua saw what his father looked like when he was afraid. It wasn't the sight of Kasuga's crushed organs and bones that did it, but when he caught Killua playing house with Alluka in the middle of the night. Without looking Alluka in the eyes, he grabbed Killua by the wrist, dragged him out into the hallway, and locked the door behind them. Killua could hear Alluka crying from inside. 

“Killua,” his father said, crouching down in front of him. “Did you grant any of its requests? 

His face was strange. Killua had seen his father disembowel powerful heads of state, drink deadly poisons, and suspend his own heartbeat for minutes at a time without even a grimace. His father didn't curl his lips or flare his nose like his mother did, but Killua could see the fear in his eyes: the fear that his best son would be killed by the daughter that he refused to acknowledge as his own. 

Shortly after that, his parents ordered the construction of the security vault beneath the house. Killua didn't know it then, but he wouldn't see Alluka for another six years. 

 

Something clicks when they're sitting in that small room, staring down the swordsman of the Phantom Troupe. He's talking about his friend and Killua can see that it's getting to Gon, the way this guy can go on about the dead when he's the same one who killed Kurapika's family. Killua watches the muscles tense beneath Gon's skin. He realizes that he can't let Gon do whatever he's thinking about doing. 

His thoughts come together like a sudden strike to the forehead. That big guy that Kurapika killed, scum or not, was somebody to the rest of the Troupe. To the swordsman blocking the door. He was somebody important in the way that Gon is somebody important to Killua. Anybody could be that person to somebody else in their life. All the people that Killua's already killed probably had somebody who would've given their life instead. 

The words come out of his mouth without warning. Let me fight him, Killua says. What he means is, let me die. Dying would be the least he could do if it means that Gon will be safe. 

Obviously, Gon isn't having any of that. 

They argue about it. Killua strongly considers just knocking him out, but there's a flicker of common sense left in him that catches Gon's plan. And it works, of course. 

As they're sprinting through the night, both their lives intact, Killua starts to piece together the beginnings of a promise to himself. 

 

People don't stop dying after that, but Killua tries not to put himself on the killing side. Even when fighting a Chimera Ant Royal Guardsman, a justified killing if there ever was one, Killua finds himself holding back. He's killed enough, he thinks. He can leave the killing to somebody else now.

Still, it's unrealistic to think he'll never kill again. If it's a stranger or Alluka, he would kill for her in a heartbeat. If it were a stranger or Gon, he'd have no choice. If it were Alluka or Gon—he stops the thought before he finishes it, banishes it to the farthest reaches of his consciousness. 

Unless it's to save a life, he won't kill. And even then, only if he has no other options. 

He repeats the thought again and again, enjoying the sound of his own voice in his head and no one else's. He tells his sisters about his resolution as they go to bed that night. 

Alluka grips his hand tight. She closes her eyes.

"I love Killua," Nanika says. "Killua is good." 

Killua chuckles and ruffles Nanika's hair. 

"I don't know about that. But I'm trying."


End file.
